


Stuttering Silence

by romanticalgirl



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 18:58:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1163305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cowritten with Amy (Oz) and Tracy (Xander) - neither of whom are in fandom any longer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Xander

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 2000
> 
> Song "How Did We Get from Saying 'I Love You'" written by Alan Doyle/by Great Big Sea from their album "Play"

I look back on the past a lot. I guess that kind of happens when you don't believe you have much of a future. I mean, even if I survive into my twenties, which in Sunnydale is a feat unto itself, I don't really have much to look forward to. A string of nobody jobs interrupted by battles with the forces of darkness. Wheee. What a ride that'll be.

It's been raining here for three days straight -- pretty remarkable for California, and I've been itching to get out and just walk for a while. I like to walk around, and reminisce about the good times; the times when I was still in the loop, part of the gang, the man in charge of munchies. It's been a long time since anyone needed me. I never thought that all those idiots who constantly told me that high school was going to be the best years of my life would be right. Who knew four years of hell - both literal and figuratively - would be the high point of my life?

But at last, today, the sun is starting to peek through the clouds. So I can actually get out of this dank basement and interact with the world. I shrug into my jacket and lope up the stairs and outside easily, eager to smell the damp, crisp air.

I begin wandering without purpose, sort of the story of my life, thinking about different battles and the way the world is today. Without realizing where I was wandering, I found myself in front of Willow's house. It's for sale now. Willow is at school in the dorm and her parents aren't ever home anyway.

That was kind of nice when we were kids. She was constantly sleeping over at my house, hanging out after school. Those are times I miss too. Willow needed me back then. I didn't think of her as a case study, I made her laugh, and I was her friend.

I pause as that thought hits me. I lean against the streetlamp and breathe deeply. I *was * her friend. When exactly did that become past tense? This past summer? After high school? Yesterday? It's hard to pick the exact moment. I just know that now, we're more of acquaintances than friends. I can't even pick the last day I saw her. More than a week ago. More than two weeks actually, when I caught a glimpse of her through the crowd at the Bronze.

I know things have changed a lot for her since high school. It really fell apart when Oz left Sunnydale. Willow kinda closed up and wouldn't let anyone near - especially if they were male. Which was torture for me, because I'm her Xander. The guy she's known forever. Can't say I didn't give her reasons to not trust me, but it still hurts.

It's so weird to think about. Willow and I aren't best friends. Okay, we haven't been for a while, but this is the first time the idea's occurred to me. I'm usually the last to know everything. I'm kinda slow on the uptake, which is why they don't bother telling me much anymore. Willow probably figured it out a while ago and decided not to bring it to my attention. To spare my feelings.

I sit on the curb directly across from her house and stare at it, letting the feelings of sadness crash over me in waves. If this is the death of something, I need a mourning period. It was hard enough when, way back in senior year, she chose Oz over me. I never mentioned it, never let anyone know how hurt I was that she didn't think I was worth fighting for. But now, we've let our friendship slip into oblivion. And it's not anyone's fault really. I can't blame her, because she's off going to college and becoming someone worthwhile and beautiful. And I can't blame me, because I just don't fit into the best friend mold a person like that needs. I can't understand the difficulties in her life now -- because I'm not there on a day-to-day, or even week-to-week basis.

It should have been different. We should have gravitated together after she broke up with Oz and I broke up with Anya. We should have comforted each other more and maybe explored that big freeway not taken. But resentment and guilt have a strange way of creating wedges. I was mad that she chose Oz over me, she was guilty that we ever fluked. Then, one day you miss a phone call that you don't bother to return, and suddenly silence is easier than working to maintain a relationship.

Damn. How did this happen? Willow was, and still is, one of the most important people in my life. She was my best friend, support system, tutor, and so much more. And now, she's just… not there. She's busy, and I have to work, and we're not Willow and Xander anymore.

Sighing, I catch a glimpse of red out the corner of my eye, and I jump up, ready to flee. Then my brain stops me feet. Why should I be afraid of Willow? She's not going to bite me or anything. I know that for a fact because it's daylight. I watch her walk up the street towards her house with baited breath, and finally I get the courage to walk across the street to meet her in front of her house.

She smiles slightly at me, and I try to phrase the thoughts that were in my head a few minutes before. I want to try to be friends. Really make the effort. And now that there aren't any other obstacles, find out if there's anything else between us.

"Hi," I begin, hoping my nervousness is sufficiently masked.

"Hi," she replies, shoving her hands deeply into her pockets. "What are you doing here?" she asks, indicating her house with a toss of her chin.

"I was… just out walking," I reply slowly. "It's been thundering and lightning-ing and storming out and I wanted to walk before the next storm." I pause, trying to think of something else to say. "It's a cold day for September," I finally say.

She gives me a funny look and it's in that instant, that second, that I realize just how big the gap between us is now. She can't read me, and I can't read her. I can't tell if she's amused by me, or annoyed, or just looking for an excuse to get away from me. And I'm suddenly filled with a sadness I've never known. She was the person I was supposed to be friends with for life. The person who would be amused by me when we were eighty in neighboring rest homes. The person who would love me, no matter what, through all the ups and downs of life. But now, we're practically strangers.

"It calls for rain this afternoon," she replied slowly, looking at me, "So you'd better get a good walk in."

"Yeah," I agree. My heart has sunk to a whole new depth and tongue feels all swollen and dry. This is insane. This is *Willow *. I've known her my whole life, spoken more words to her than anyone, and I can't think of anything to say.

She fidgets nervously with the zipper on her jacket, and I fight the tears that are suddenly behind my eyelids. I don't know how to fix this. I don't know how to get back to being Xander and Willow.

We stand there in utter silence for a few moments, and I realize just how deafening a silence can be. Not so very long ago, we could have stood together for hours in comfortable silence, but now, now there's this awkwardness between us. We don't hang out, we don't talk everyday, and we have no idea what's going on in each other's lives.

"Do you need help with anything? With the house?" I finally offer, not knowing what else to day.

"Oh!" She waves at the house nervously. "Just here to check for mail. Then I'm going back home."

I'm sure she doesn't even know that referring to her dorm room as 'home' has left me feeling even worse. I haven't been to her dorm since last spring, when I helped Buffy move some furniture back to her mom's house.

"Okay, then," I reply brightly.

"So, um, I'll see you around, okay?" she says.

I nod dumbly, not trusting myself to speak past the lump of tears in my throat. She bounds up the steps and into the house without looking back even once.

And I'm left on the sidewalk saying goodbye to us. To who we used to be together. Now I know for sure that she's going to move on and we'll lose touch completely. This last conversation proved it to me like a sledgehammer to the head. But it's almost okay. Because I was the most important person in Willow's life once. I was someone she loved. And best of all, I got to love her for a little while.

I cast a glance at her house, wondering if she knows how grateful I am for it, exactly how much it meant to me. And then I do the saddest thing of my life. I walk away.


	2. Oz

I've wondered for a long time what it would be like back in Sunnydale. That is to say, I never let myself find out. Somehow it was too hard, even though I could feel the earth in this place calling to me. I told Willow that I would be back when I had straightened things out with myself.

Unfortunately, that took longer than any of us could have anticipated.

Gone, over six of the continents, looking for a single place to find peace and quiet. Even the mountains, which I tried, were too loud for me. The trees screamed at me whenever the sun set. The birds screeched in my ear as they flew past. The dirt shot recriminations at me whenever I walked on it. Too loud. I guess, in my way, I'm very connected to this planet and everything on it.

India was nice, for a little while. I felt incredibly peaceful while I was there, comforted. I've heard that it's a good place to go. And it was. But it wasn't my place to go. Not by a long shot. Ireland was almost as calming.

All of the places I went, I didn't find what I was looking for. And every time the full moon would come around, I battled with myself... Do I let myself become what I hate, let myself be what I know I am? I slowly learned how to control myself so that it wasn't the monster, the wolf, that took me places, but the hidden man - underneath the fur.

I didn't do this flawlessly. It took me almost a year of complete and total concentration to adjust. Finally I went to the desert. The aching, hot desert, where I was lonely and fulfilled at the same time, where I could be what I was and not worry about hurting myself by hurting others. It's really quite dazzling... The most brilliant sunsets came on nights that would be freezing, and the coldest fog brought the warmest colors when it faded.

That's how I learned to think of myself. I found out that the beauty took time, or to have beauty, there'd have to be sacrifices. Maybe I'm a better person because of this wolf that hides in my heart. Maybe not.

It doesn't matter now.

What really matters is that I'm back home. Not the home I claimed for so long, between nothing but sand and sea and sky, but the home that I grew up in, lived in...fell in love in. And time will only tell me what will happen.

***  
It really wasn't supposed to be like this. I was supposed to come back in one month, maybe two, beg her forgiveness, and never leave her again. That would have been the way I'd have chosen it. But I could feel something inside of me, all the time, pushing me farther away from her. So I let it push me.

And here I am, almost a year later.

Wondering what she's going to do when she sees me.

I know Willow still lives here. Or lives here again. I checked it out on the Internet-stalker-ish, maybe, but I like to think it's justified—and found out that she went to LA with Buffy as soon as school ended, sometime in May. Willow came back, Buffy didn’t, but I haven’t found anything resembling a death certificate or an new Slayer being called, so I’m guessing it wasn’t a horrible reason Willow came back again.

But I have to admit, I'm a little curious.

So, Willow’s back in Sunnydale. And I've been in town a week.

But nothing I told myself in the quiet of my Devon's apartment could have prepared me for seeing her again. Not a single thing.

***  
Grocery shopping. Something I haven't done, not really, in a very long time. Done this aisle and that, pushing a cart, filling it to the brim with meats of every kind, and a couple of dairy products. You know, to keep myself balanced.

And then there was a crash.

While my stomach was growling, demanding to be fed with all of the raw meats I was staring at-- tonight was going to be the night before the full moon, and I needed to stock up-- I had let myself wander into some poor woman's shopping cart. Her cart was nearly full, and a bag of bread tumbled out and onto the floor.

I leaned down to get it, and heard her gasp.

It sounded familiar. It couldn't be, I told myself lamely. There was no chance it had happened this way, that it was her. I stood up.

And Willow stood there.

Mutely, I handed her the bread, and she took it with a dumbfounded look on her face. I couldn't stop staring. She was more beautiful than I had ever seen her, ever pictured her before.

She had let her hair grow natural, until it was a dark auburn, and it fell in silky waves down to her shoulders. Her eyes glimmered into mine, and I felt I could read everything she was feeling... But maybe that was only possible because I was feeling the same things. It couldn't have happened at a more inopportune time.

And yet it had.

"Hi," I said softly.

"Hi," she echoed. I felt her voice wash over me, and I closed my eyes in unadulterated pleasure, like an addict who had just been given a shot of morphine. When I opened my eyes, she wasn't looking at me anymore, but down into her basket.

Finally, she looked back up. She smiled awkwardly. "Well. I'm done... I think I'm going to go. It was nice seeing you."

I felt my heart stop, but I nodded. "Yeah."

She looked at me once more, and then turned and sprinted away, leaving her grocery's behind, in the aisle. I stared for a second before running after her. I tried calling her, but she kept running, away from the store... Away from me.

I caught her by the arm in the parking lot. "Willow," I said breathlessly.

Her cheeks were flushed, and she whipped around to look at me. The wind blew her hair wildly around her face, and her eyes were watery. "Hi. Again," she whispered.

"I didn't mean it to be like this," I tried to tell her.

Willow's eyes darted down, away from mine. Was it hurting her to look at me and remember?

I winced. Probably.

"How did you mean it to be?" she asked, her voice trembling.

I licked my lips, not knowing what to say. As much as I thought I had planned it, I really hadn't. I guess I had just hoped that... When I came back, when I saw her, I would know what to say, and that... What? She would fall into my arms and forgive my stupidity? What if she was with someone? What if she thought I was?

There were too many questions.

"I don't know," I breathed, letting go of her arm. She took a step back from me, and the silence fell again. I searched my mind for something to say. "So... How's... Everyone?"

She shrugged. "It's been a busy month for me, seeing people I wouldn't have expected to... People I haven't seen in a while... I was gone over the summer. But Giles is fine."

I had to swallow my surprise. "Oh? Are you and Giles a...Are you...?"

Willow laughed quickly, and then bit down on the sound as if it were a sin. "No. Not like that. He's just really the only one I've been in…steady contact with since.... The only one who... Cared enough, I guess," she finished bitterly.

"I care," I said quietly. When she ignored the comment, I went on as if I hadn't said it. "What about Buffy?"

Willow shrugged. "She’s in LA for a while," she said, and didn't elaborate. She didn't have to. It was about Angel and it probably wasn’t good, and it wasn’t my place to ask. It wasn't as if I had the right, or any claim on Willow's life now. It wasn't as if she was my girlfriend... Or wife.

"And...?" I left the question hanging, wanting to ask about Xander, but in the last minute deciding not to. "You?"

"I'm fine. I've been fine. It's been hard," she said, her voice cracking on the word, "But my life is getting better... I started school again this past week. Things are healing." I didn't know what she was referring to - me or someone else, but it didn't matter. I stared at her as she continued looking around at the sky. "A little lonely, but... What are you doing here, Oz?"

The question. The biggest question that I had no answer for. I swallowed hard, my brow tightening. Running my hand through my hair, I shrugged, and followed her eyes up to the sky. "It's a cold day for September, isn't it?"

She gave a quick, sharp laugh. "I seem to be having this conversation a lot lately," she muttered. Then she sighed. "Yeah. The rain has been coming down in sheets. Today is really the only reprieve we've had in the past week. ...What are you doing here, Oz?"

I looked at her, met her eyes. "I don't know," I replied honestly. "It didn't really occur to me that you'd hate the thought of seeing me again. I figured... Maybe... You'd hate me a little at first, and then we'd... Do something. I don't know. I can't explain what I thought," I admitted, defeated.

She nodded, and I noticed that her nose was turning red because of cold. I suddenly had the urge to see her in her Eskimo costume again, see her all bundled up and warm, the way she was when I first fell in love. When I first knew what it was that everyone was talking about; that feeling, that high, that total exhilaration of laying your eyes on the one person you're supposed to be with forever.

But I gave that up.

I sighed again. I couldn't even have a pleasant memory without recriminations.

Willow bit her lower lip. "I don't hate seeing you," she said gently, her eyes softening. And then she squared her shoulders. "But it's been a long time, Oz. And I don't think... I don't know what there is to say."

"I can say I'm sorry," I said, reaching out and touching her hand.

She stared at my fingers on her wrist for a moment, and then looked up at me. Her gaze was sad. "And I can say that I forgive you. But it's not enough. And I need to get home."

The silence floated over us again, but she didn't move; just continued looking at me as if disappointed. Which she probably was. Nevertheless, I took that as a good sign, her not leaving. "Maybe we could have coffee sometime," I offered hopefully.

"I don't know what we'd talk about," she answered, snapping out of her trance-like state. "And I do need to leave."

She turned around, calmly this time, and started walking away. After a second, she stopped and turned around, walking back towards me. She placed her palm on my cheek tenderly, and leaned forward, kissing my mouth.

Her breath was warm but her lips were cold, it was strange and new, but familiar and comforting; the kiss was awkward in a million ways, but I wanted to stay in it because I knew that if she didn't break the kiss, she wouldn't leave.

But she pulled away, looked at me with eyes that glittered mournfully, and walked away again.

This time I didn't chase or call after her. I didn't need to. I knew what that was. I had seen it before, when I had done it to her. It was firm and definite; final in a way that I had never intended, but that I knew she did. It was perfectly understandable too, but my heart rebelled against it because I didn't want to accept what it was.

But I had to.

It was goodbye.


	3. Willow

"It’s a cold day for September."  
Funny. They both said that. How strange is it, that in a world full of things to say, they would both say the same thing? I mean, I haven’t seen Oz for months and Xander and I haven’t really had a conversation in almost as long. And yet, in all that time, that’s all we could think of to say.

You expect things to change. That’s been obvious since the moment Buffy entered our lives, even before, although not quite as drastically. You expect things to change and they do. But then, when it’s done and the change is there then you realize that maybe the change wasn’t what you wanted in the first place.

But you can’t change it back.

You can’t go back to those moments of your childhood and innocence where it was just two friends against the world. And you can’t go back to the magical moments of first love. And you can’t even hope to find the thing you thought you’d lost and then found again, in the face of the boy you’ve loved all your life. And you can’t see the forgiveness in the eyes of the man you’ve grown to love.

You can’t find them because they’re gone. They’ve changed.

And so have you.

I used to think that changes happened in big ways. I mean, I use Buffy’s arrival in Sunnydale as a major changing point in my life. My life is sort of divided pre-Buffy and post-Buffy. But it’s not the big changes. Those aren’t the ones that, when you realize them, tear your apart from the inside out.

Those you see happening.

It’s the small changes, like the fact that you haven’t…I haven’t talked to Xander in ages. I haven’t had the time to pick up the phone and call him. I haven’t had a moment to wonder what my best friend has been up to.

And Oz…well, Oz is a different matter all together.

But I don’t remember not being in love with him anymore. Just like I don’t remember not being in love with Xander.

Oh God.

I want to cry. I want to cry and I want to take it all back. The thought…the change. When did the men I love become people I don’t love anymore? When did they become strangers…or worse? When did they become people I used to know? When did they become people I’ll nod to on the street as if we haven’t shared the most intimate of secrets?

When did they become my past?

Tears leak through my lashes and I can feel them trailing down my cheeks. When I was a little girl, I used to plan my future with Xander, sure that he and I would be married and have lots of little Willow and Xanders running around. I used to be a little sad that they wouldn’t be able to have the chance of being friends like he and I were, but I couldn’t bear the thought of him with anyone else, so there was no chance of us just being best friends and neighbors.

And then, when I got older, when I found Oz… I started dreaming about maybe a life with him and I was happy, knowing that maybe my kids would get a chance to be best friends with Xander after all.

And now…well, now there’s no chance of anything.

It seems like it was only days ago that they were everything in my life, but now I can picture them vaguely, not in the sharp detail I used to be able to conjure their faces up with. I can remember their tone of voice, but I can’t hear them anymore.

"It’s a cold day for September…"

All I can remember is the silence that seemed to fill the air around us. Not comfortable, not safe. Just cold and empty.

Like I feel.

I used to be part of something, part of Xander and Willow, part of Willow and Oz. And now…I’m Willow. And I like being her.

But I miss being the Willow I used to be. The Willow I was with them.

I miss her.

But I miss them even more.

But what can you say, when you get to the point where you’re making casual conversation because you don’t have anything else in common, nothing else to say?

When all you have left is the past?

I look out the window and I notice that the rain has begun to fall and, in a way, I’m almost glad. It matches my mood. It matches my tears.

I’ve loved two men in my life. Both of them differently at different times, and both the same at the same time. And right now, I know that everything I thought I knew about them has fallen apart. We’ve gone from love to…this, this nothingness. This hastily spoken and easily broken promise.

I remember their faces as I said it.

"I’ll see you around…"

I wonder if they knew I was lying?

I wonder if I did.

***

"It's a cold day for September", was all I thought to say  
When I saw you on the street the other day  
Something's changed between us, all the talk we made was small  
What do you say to someone when they've heard you say it all?  
It's an awkward conversation, in a most peculiar way...

Chorus:  
How did we get from saying "I love you" to "I'll see you around someday"  
How did we get from saying "I love you" to "I'll see you around someday"

Seems like only days ago, we had so much to say  
We'd take it all for granted, then it all gets thrown away  
"It calls for rain this afternoon", she finally replied  
There was a stuttering silence, that I felt my mouth go dry  
So we'll talk about the weather, cause there's not much else to say...

How did we get from saying "I love you" to "I'll see you around someday"  
How did we get from saying "I love you" to "I'll see you around someday"  
How did we get from saying "I love you" to "I'll see you around someday"  
How did we get from saying "I love you" to "I'll see you around someday"

Has all the ice been broken,  
all our surfaces been scratched  
Have all our words been broken,  
have we finally met our match?

How did we get from saying "I love you" to "I'll see you around someday"  
How did we get from saying "I love you" to "I'll see you around someday"  
How did we get from saying "I love you" to "I'll see you around someday"  



End file.
